


I Can Give You An Ocean

by poison_ivvy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Barebacking, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Murder Mystery, Object Insertion, Objectification, Omega Dean Winchester, Sexual Slavery, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 06:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poison_ivvy/pseuds/poison_ivvy
Summary: Chased by demons from his past, omega Dean finds himself reluctantly sold to the powerful liege of a desolate seaside town.





	I Can Give You An Ocean

When Castiel returns from town that evening, there is a small rabble of people crowded around his foyer. The long, narrow hallway of his home barely accommodates of the bulk of his own frame, and it is with a frown that he realizes that there must be at least half a dozen people crammed into the narrow passageway. To Castiel’s immediate consternation, it appeared that his staff has refused his surprise company proper entry inside the house. The clamor of irate voiced faded into silence the second the alpha and master of the home sets foot inside. However, the swell of peace lasted only for a heartbeat before bursting forth in the form of Garth Hawthorne, a small man under Castiel’s employment with an enviable lung capacity that belied his rail thin appearance.

“Sir!” he exclaimed, nervous. “I’ve been trying to explain to these horse hooves for brains that they have absolutely no right to barge in on you like this.”

“Actually, sir,” a beta in rumpled police uniform smoothly interrupted Garth before he could pick up steam. “We’re from the county sheriff’s office, and there’s a matter we would like to urgently discuss with you. Privately,” he added pointedly.

Castiel fixed the pair with an unblinking gaze, eyes steady as he privately lamented the loss of what he had hoped would have been an otherwise quiet evening. “Alright,” he said, quelling. “Anybody else?”

A bull necked man an in ill-fitting jumpsuit stepped forward, pushing a clipboard in Castiel’s direction with relief. “Yes, please, if you could be as kind as to sign for this, I’ll be out of your hair,” he stammered out in rush.

He had barely finished speaking when both the men from the sheriff’s station as well as Garth started yelling anew.

“Quiet!” Castiel thundered.

The beginnings of a growl rumbled through his throat, a warning. Silence fell like a dark curtain, and the pale reek of nerves floated through the air as the scent of displeased alpha filled the hall. Upsetting the master of the house in the sanctity of his own territory was no way to conduct civil business, and they all knew it.

Castiel, who had been in the process of stripping off the well-worn leather of his winter gloves, paused to address the gaggle of strangers in his foyer. “The hour grows late,” he observed. “So the sooner someone explains to me – calmly – what is happening, the more efficiently I can help you gentlemen.

“Garth, you first,” he added acerbically when the sheriff’s man instantly opened his mouth.

“This man is from the Domestic Distributions Company,” Garth gestured expansively to the red-faced man clutching the clipboard, “and they are trying to sell you illegal merchandise, sir! And these, _fine gentlemen_,” Garth’s tone dripped too thickly with sarcasm for his speech to be considered anything short of impolite, “from the police station are trying to blame us for being bamboozled into buying something we didn’t know about. And, sir, as long as you don’t sign that piece of paper technically, we haven’t even bought the slut yet. This entire thing is an outrage.”

As he neared the end of his diatribe Garth’s voice veritably quivered in outrage. Castiel knew he must have been nearly as upset about this perceived injustice as he imagined his master would be. In truth, Castiel was already somewhat embarrassed by his previous display of emotion. It was unseemly for an alpha of his standing to make a scene out of something so trivial, but it had been a long, muddy ride home and this business with the improper purchasing of a domestic omega just was not something that, in Castiel’s opinion, required such a fuss to be made.

He fixed the sheriff with an impatient look. “What’s illegal about my domestic?” he asked brusquely. “Because I cannot imagine that some mismanaged paperwork would possibly require you and three of your baton happy colleagues to come disturb my peace over a private purchase.”

The deputy looked caught off guard. “It’s not about paperwork, sir,” he hedged uncomfortably. “This omega’s previous owner died under mysterious circumstances that have only recently been brought to light. He was re-sold by Distributions before the investigation was completed, but I believe he’s wanted for questioning a few territories back west.” The beta shifted nervously on his feet, but held his ground.

Castiel could feel the beginnings of a small tension headache stirring behind his brow. “You cannot be serious,” he said disbelievingly. “All this over some questions? You cannot truly believe a domestic omega had anything to do with an alpha’s death,” he said.

This was proving to be a ridiculous conclusion to a frustrating arrival home. Castiel brushed past the row of men crowding the hallway, moving inside to the more spacious reception area and handing his long coat to a helpful young lady on his serving staff.

“I see now why you didn’t let any of them in,” he muttered lowly to Anna, a long-time member of his household. “And where is my latest source of buyer’s remorse? I assume you have the domestic tucked away somewhere a little less strenuous?”

Castiel suspected that his exquisitely trained staff would never dream of leaving a solitary omega alone with the rabble that had since followed him inside, no matter how allegedly dangerous he was rumored to be. His suspicions were proven to be correct when Anna led him to one of their spare pantries of grain, an inconspicuous room tucked deep enough into the servants’ quarters that none of the commotion from the main entrance would have drifted back here. Leaving his assorted and unwelcome guests unattended on the threshold, Castiel unceremoniously thrust open the cellar door.

A burst of light was suddenly cast into the small, dark room. Inside on the cool dirt floor lay a huddled figure, bare except for the bulky drape of chains around his throat and hips. The sweet scent of unconscious but aroused omega permeated through the air. The honeyed scent was faint was enchanting, instantly erasing any trace of the throbbing headache that had been building behind Castiel’s eyes.

The alpha strode forward, the heaviness of his stride finally succeeding in rousing the unlikely fugitive. His reaction to Castiel’s presence was immediate, as the slender limbed omega struggled under the weight of his muddied chains to balance on his knees for his new master. Castiel was reluctantly charmed despite himself, and he instinctively reached out to roughly grasp the boy by the scruff of the neck in order to help him right himself. He stroked the delicate skin of his nape under the cold metal of his temporarily collar, unable to stop himself from imagining for a moment what that tanned neck would look like bowed under the weight of a collar that bore his own family crest.

The shuffling of feet just outside the fringes of his vision shook Castiel out of his momentary lapse of attention however, and the alpha regretfully released the hard pressure of his grip from the hapless, drooling omega’s bonding glands. If the boy’s reaction was any indicator, Castiel noted with some relish that the omega must have been strongly submissive. Most domestics bedwarmers by their nature were inherently incapable of true Dominance, but one never knew what one was signing up for when taking out contracts through privately run agencies like the Domestic Distribution company through which this very omega had been purchased.

“What questions do you have for my domestic?” Castiel addressed the men at the threshold as he stood besides his kneeling omega.

He reached down once again to tangle his fingers in the boy’s sandy hair, cruelly tugging against his scalp under his neck was craned upwards, to better meet his master’s eyes. At least, that had been the alpha’s intention, but from the very first moment he met his omega’s eyes Castiel was lost. Even in the darkness and dankness of the grain cellar, his eyes shone with a brilliant green fire that was made all the brighter by the wet glint of pained tears. His pupils mere pinpricks, the domestic gazed up at his alpha sweetly, vacantly, and without a hint of fear. A dusting of freckles coated the bridge of his nose and a lush mouth panted out shallow breaths, inviting the alpha’s gaze to his bitten lips. He would have made a fetching portrait, if it hadn’t been for the ugly bruises blooming like plum colored jewels across his cheekbone. A freely bleeding cut over his lip seemed to have just barely oozed shut during the time he had been left alone. He remained silent and limp in the alpha’s grasp.

Castiel frowned, moving his hand gingerly down the side of his domestic’s face until he was cupping the boy’s skull in his palm. “What have been you given him?” he asked the man from the Distributions company. The pinprick pupils, the strained and shallow way the omega was breathing, and the constellation of bruising on his face painted a very clear picture that Castiel wasn’t sure if he liked. “Come on now,” he growled insistently. “I have a right to know what you’ve done to my property.”

Another agency man in an identical beige jumpsuit stepped forward and handed the alpha a small, empty bottle. “He required some calming down, sir,” he said blandly. Castiel turned over the bottle in the meager light of the cellar and squinted down at the label on the bottle. B-52X HALOPERIDOL, LORAZEPAM, SODIUM THIOPENTAL winked back at him in neat black lettering. Castiel was suddenly impressed that the omega is even capable of keeping his eyes open, let alone continue staying upright.

“Alright,” he said, taking a steadying breath. Something about the boy’s wide, wet green eyes and the terrified scent slowly but surely overpowering the tiny room made Castiel turn away from him. He came to rest behind his domestic instead, looming tall while the omega continued to kneel unsteadily on the floor. “You can ask my omega questions now while I give him a preliminary inspection,” Castiel continued, addressing the sheriff’s deputy. Under his hands the omega whimpered softly, the first sound he’d made since they’d come into the room.

“Or you can return at a later time. But what you may not do,” the alpha concluded, voice booking no argument. “Is remove him from my care or property at any time without a warrant, and especially not with such a flimsy excuse.” Meeting the men’s’ eyes sternly before allowing his attention to drift back to the shivering omega under his firm control.

Letting his hands wander around to pinch his nipples, he finds them already pert to his attentions in the cool air of the cellar. They’re unpierced and unadorned, which Castiel summarized was the result of his not being part of the household of an alpha of any significant means before now. It is a problem easily remedied however, especially in light of how delightfully responsive the omega’s lithe body is to his owner’s inquisitive torment. He twitched weakly in Castiel’s arms, nerves too thoroughly fried by the drugs and sedatives to do more than moan hoarsely when the alpha guided him by his tight nipples to lay defenselessly on his side. His master shushed him reassuringly when he stiffens in an attempt to close his legs despite the tangle of chains the swing from his hips.

There’s a general grumbling of protest across the huddle of suits clustered like crows in the doorway, but in the end it’s the man from the Distributions company who managed to cut above the fray.

“Does this mean you’ll be confirming your purchase with us?” he asked hopefully, still waving that clipboard. Castiel nodded at Garth to liberate the paperwork from the man, which he took as clear liberty to continue chattering on about the details of Castiel’s latest purchase.

“Okay, so this here is Dean, held one previous contract, marked as a male submissive being contracted now to you sir, Castiel Milton, as a domestic omega. He has the standard branding, but his training was freeform. Nulliparous but potentially fertile.”

Castiel nodded, taking note of the details of his new omega – of Dean’s – history as he crouched down and gentled his hands down the boy’s flank. Given the commotion that had accompanied his arrival, he did not think it remiss to double check that everything was as it should be before he signed off on any legal binding paperwork.

“He’s been on hormonal suppressants for the past four to five years, so if you want him back on a regular heat cycle then we recommend a subdermal implant,” the man continued by rote. Castiel eased the omega onto his front and slid his knees apart. He was pleased to note that the instinct to present was deeply rooted enough that his gentle nudging was sufficient to have Dean shuffling his head down and arching his back into a natural lordosis without further prompting. Whoever put this creature on heat suppressants had committed a crime against humanity, in Castiel’s opinion. It was clear to him right away that this was an omega who could be ruled quite gracefully by his own nature, if given the correct opportunity. His skin was freckled lightly everywhere. A smooth pink scar in the shape of an ornate C lived on the crest of one hipbone as a testament to the house of his seller.

The alpha smoothed his hand over the omega’s pert ass, hefting the weight of him clinically before giving him a light spank on his pale rear. A little color would do him good in the future, Castiel pondered, steadying the boy when he swayed lightly on his hands and hands at the abuse.

The omega had been bound for transport, which meant that the jumble of irons around his waist concluded in a thick, metal plug buried so deep inside his sensitive hole that Castiel could nearly see the thick outline of it pushing through the boy’s abdomen every time he desperately clenched down. A thin metal band wrapped around his scrotum and lead to a small, tied off cock.

While the commonly infertile omega cocks were seldom seen as worthwhile enough to keep leashed, most common sellers had to be able to assure their sellers of untarnished property. It had been traditionally unheard of in established society to allow an unclaimed omega to travel alone, due to the untenably high risk of a stray interloper risking their alpha’s legitimacy with unwanted advances. Similarly, sellers operating with a third-party procurer of domestic omega often insisted that that their property be appropriately secured until delivery.

Now, with his alpha towering over him with his hands yanking his hair and prying his mouth open to peer critically at his teeth and eagerly running his fingers over his soft spots, there seems to be little need to preserve the sanctity of the domestic’s hole. Castiel experimentally rocked the thick black base of the iron plug into his omega’s cunt, watching with barely restrained lust as Dean gave a sweet scream and collapsed onto his elbows. A rivulet of slick ran down the inside of one unblemished thigh, gleaming over the obscene stretch of where his tight hole had been painfully, unrelentingly stoppered up.

“Keys,” Castiel snapped, clicking his fingers. Risky business or not, his mind had been made up. He would gladly sign responsibility for taking this gorgeous little slut as a ward under his care in exchange for the keys to Dean’s chains. Leaving the omega whimpering on the floor, Castiel rose to his feet and dusted himself off.

The man from the company handed him the appropriate paperwork over Garth’s indignant spluttering, while the sheriff’s deputies gave him flat eyed stares of displeasure. Unfortunately for the police department, an alpha’s legal rule over members of his household was absolute and rigid, and even more so in small coastal towns such as these. As if Castiel’s enormous house atop a hill weren’t obvious enough of a parable, the casual authority with which he commanded himself and others made it crystal clear that this might as well have been a man on a mission from god. The police and their questions would have to wait until a later date. Castiel himself swept out of the cellar in a huff of dust, eyeing the ensuing mess with distain.

“Ana,” he called, “have a set of my clothes sent down to the caverns. I could use nothing so much as a bath after the day we’ve been having.”

The drugs they like to pump Dean full of leave his brain cooked out, slowly turning his willpower into scrambled eggs while they fuck him raw and enjoy his confused begging. In the silence between his new master leaving and returning, Dean loses time. When he comes to his senses once more it is to the soft whispers of moving water all around him. He knows that he should be frightened, perhaps of drowning. But the feel of the warm wetness on his skin is soothing, relaxing. Castiel is sat closely next to him, and this time they are both equally undressed.

“There you are,” he murmured into the shell of Dean’s ear. They were sat comfortably in the natural stone basins of the great house’s natural springs. The water carried with it a sweet, almost cloying scent. While most hot springs arose from deep within the earth, in the limestone caverns of the Milton ancestral home the waters flowed deeply and darkly with magic straight from the nearby sea. How the ocean could be so cold and salty only a few meters away but still bubble softly with unnatural sweetness within the springs was an enchantment beyond the scope of mortal comprehension.

Castiel focused his energies instead on his domestic, who had no doubt been steadily rejuvenated by the water’s healing properties. He shamelessly tucked the omega closer into his own body, exploring the wet planes of his abdomen and muscles thighs. He circled a fingertip around the boy’s hole, watching Dean intently as the water began to slip into the omega. A look of confusion crossed his face, and he began to squirm in Castiel’s grasp.

“The water feels electric, doesn’t it, sweet thing,” Castiel said softly, greedily drinking in the omega’s best attempts to keep his sounds to himself. The magic of the water was healing, but it was also a slave to Castiel’s will. It may seem petty to demonstrate his supernatural prowess so casually to a domestic he hasn’t even mated yet, but there is a part of Castiel that cannot resist. It is a reflection of his power; of how capable he will be to possess and protect that which belongs to him.

The next moment the tingling ceased altogether, and Dean bit his lip as his hole clenched around a phantom sensation. His alpha almost immediately resumed his insistent rubbing against his entrance, and they both notice the difference all at once. Where previously the omega’s cunt had been loose and dripping, forced into pliancy after hours and hours of having a plug the size of a small baseball bat shoved inside; now he was as tight and sticky as a Ziploc leaking honey.

Castiel grinned against his omega’s tightly collared neck, forcing two fingers cruelly deep into the tightness of his sopping cunt and luxuriating in the Dean’s response of whimpering yelps. The scent of his newest bedwarmer grew dozy with submission in response to the alpha’s dominant behavior.

The empty bottle rattling around the stone steps of the hot spring was a testament to the intense and probably confusingly euphoric cocktail of drugs the boy was probably reeling from, but when Castiel slotted three fingers tight against his omega’s eager slit, notching them deep against the sensitive parts inside him and watched those sea foam eyes roll back into his head with arousal knew that he had found something special. He made sure those sweet eyes were on him when he eased his fingers out of the boy’s hole and roughly shoved him onto his back on the ground next to where they had just moments ago been bathing.

The ground was cool, finely silted sand that slipped smoothly over Dean’s skin as he was forced onto his back. Castiel wasted no time in bullying his way between the omega’s legs so he could hook a knee around one shoulder, forcing his slut’s hips as wide as they would go in his eagerness already to test limits.

“You keep your legs spread when you’re with me,” he rasped roughly into the hollow of the domestic’s throat. The jangling bell of the latest temporary collar irritates him as he sucked a punishing bruise above the boy’s freckled clavicle.

“They’re spread,” Dean whined in protest, going still in retroactive apprehension when Castiel failed to reward his impatience.

Castiel leaned back, bending to easily flip the omega onto his hands and knees with one easy movement. He slapped the boy’s hole several times in quick, vicious succession with the flat of his hand, sliding up Dean’s back to rub hot fingers over his lips and tongue when he tired of listening to the omega’s broken begging.

“Who do you belong to?” he whispered harshly against Dean’s ear, draped over his prone form with one hand anchored tightly around the errant boy’s throat. Castiel could feel the sweet omega shaking under him, helpless and overwhelmed by the proximity of a viable mate. His instincts wanted him to give in, to hand himself wholly over to the man who would be his alpha.

“Please,” the omega whimpered, throat frantically working for air against tight grip of Castiel’s grip. “Alpha, I’m yours, okay, I’m yours,” he choked out, rolling his hips wantonly back against his master’s swiftly hardening cock. He looks as beautiful struggling for breath now as he in all likelihood will choking around Castiel’s dick, the alpha thought fleetingly.

He wished he could draw this moment out further, but even with the ocean’s borrowed magic coursing through his veins, Castiel is still only a man. He hurriedly shoved down his own pants, abandoning his hold on Dean’s throat in favor of grabbing both hips with bruising firmness as he entered the hot, tight form now laying limply under him without second thought. The omega cried out loudly as he was impaled without warning or respite, breath hitching on a scream before breaking down into a stuttering moan. Once the alpha found an insistent, animalistic rhythm Dean found himself entirely at his mercy. He was pounded roughly, shoved up the bed several inches every time his master paused to hitch his hips impossibly higher.

As overtired as he is, Dean’s mating pheromones begin to scent the air without much prompting, triggering a response as alien as it was primal within his alpha. Castiel’s knot eventually began to catch the abused rim of the omega’s cunt with each brutal thrust into his writhing body, making Dean weakly struggle anew.

“Settle,” the alpha growled, demanding submission even as his mate struggled to accept the overwhelming stretch of the knot into his freshly tightened hole. “You will take what I give you,” Castiel demanded, quelling his omega’s struggles with a firm grip to the back of his neck. The domestic’s highly sensitive bonding glands were already swollen and tender, and the application of sharp pressure caused him to practically convulse in Castiel’s hold.

“Please,” he begged, hot and fevered. He sounded delirious, rocking his hips back onto the alpha’s unforgiving hold despite himself. “I need your knot,” he panted quietly, eyes closing in shame at the admission.

“Good boy,” Castiel rewarded warmly, slamming himself all the way home in the velvet sheath of the omega’s cunt and stilling. Dean cried out once and came unprompted, his body going abruptly limp. Castiel growled, hips snapping with relentless intent for a handful of minutes into the omega’s barely responsive body before locking them tightly together with the fullness of his knot.

Dean moaned weakly when Castiel carefully collapsed on top of him, cock still jerking hotly inside his clenching channel as the alpha maneuvered himself behind his ward.

“You’re milking my cock so well,” he breathed, hands reflexively spasming around Dean’s already bruised hips. “That’s it, just relax for me,” he ordered calmly, gentling the omega’s heaving side with a steadying hand.

Reaching down with one steadfast hand to circle around the omega’s already stuffed opening, the alpha took advantage of the distraction to mouth at his neck and fasten his incisors around Dean’s bonding glands before he could think to protest.

“Oh,” the omega said, sounding fucked out and not at all as worried as a powerless domestic omega about to claimed on his first night of his contract should have been. “You want me,” he said, dazed wonder coloring his voice.

Castiel hoped his silence conveyed his sense of disbelief that the truth of that statement could ever have been in jeopardy. He worried his teeth against the delicate part of his would-be omega’s nape, knowing that no matter how much he wished it he could never truly be accepted as this man’s mate unless he was granted express permission. He could only hope that he had made his case sufficiently strong enough that Dean would accept the wisdom of fulfilling this contract with him as his alpha.

“Yeah,” Dean groaned, wiggling on the heaviness of Castiel’s knot still plugged up inside him. “Yes, do it, yes,” he chanted mindlessly. Caught up in the taste of sweat and sex on his skin, Castiel hesitated only for a heartbeat longer before giving in to his baser urges. He savagely broke skin, immediately relishing the intoxicating warmth of his omega’s blood filling his mouth.

A bond forged outside of heat was overwhelming despite its’ inherent impermanence, and the threads that formed the lifeblood of all pack was already beginning to weave its’ way into both of their minds. Dean sighed and closed his eyes, the last of the tension evaporating from his muscles all at once. His ass was a dull throb, but the slowly banking warmth that had begun to glow inside him masked all discomfort. The bite at his neck bled sluggishly and radiated feverish heat. With each beat of his heart Castiel could almost feel the boy’s pulse thrumming in tune, their lifeblood thoroughly linked from now until the bond wore off. Or was refreshed.

The decision whether to give up Dean to the law or not had already been an easy one in Castiel’s mind, but now he was certain. Heedless of his vulnerability with a strange master, Dean had managed to drift into unconsciousness underneath Castiel’s prone form. No doubt exhausted by the day’s events. In sleep his brow was smooth and his lush mouth slack. Dark lashes cast shadows against skin dotted generously with freckles. Castiel knew that the sudden surge of affection and possessiveness he felt must have at least in part been due to the still freshly formed bond, but his mind had been made up. He would be keeping his new domestic by his side where he belonged. To hell with the consequences.


End file.
